Manageur d' homme
by bagginsofbagend
Summary: From a distance, the family of three look normal. But behind closed doors, they are hiding a deadly secret. The father is an escaped serial killer, Hannibal Lecter. His family, Clarice and daughter Iris are protected by a facade to keep the outside world away. That is until the monster that inhabits the father comes out and takes over his family.
1. I've turned into a monster

"_The Devil, can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing."_

Life has a way of grabbing a tight hold of you and throwing you right into the burning pits of hell. With no warning, no life raft, you have to fight your way out. Sometimes there's someone to catch your fall and sometimes those people are the reason for your fall. I'm not one to blame the outcome of my inner monster on anyone, but my father played a huge part in molding and creating it. He happened to be the same person that the world saw as monster from a nightmare come true. His name, Hannibal Lecter. When spoken, that named caused an outburst of panic. Even the best of the police force couldn't contain him. He was a monster on the loose. To me, he was never that. Partly because I never knew the real him until later on. I discovered his dark secret one chilly fall morning when I broke into his locked study. _The true monster was locked away in that study and I let him out._

Before I knew what he really was, without the mask, he was just my father, Franck Coventry. The likeable coroner who always wore perfectly pressed suits and loved anything involving gourmet food. His job choice was always an odd one to everyone around us, mainly because he was such a charismatic person. You would think being surrounded by dead people for hours in a day, you wouldn't have such high spirits. In a weird way though, that's were he was happiest. Never fully understanding why that was until now. Clarice, my mother, never talked about her life before she met my father. She was a formal FBI agent from the states, and that's about all she talks about from her past. She never talked about her family, and neither did my father. There was no evidence from their past lives. It's almost as if they erased their old lives just for their new life together. Their story of how they met is a short and simple one, on the job. I never knew that she meant that quite literally. They were your ideal married couple, always starry eyed when around each other and always showing some type of subtitle affection. It was the kind affection that used to make me want to dig my eyeballs out. A typical teenager maneuver. But when you look at it now, all I can think about is how could she ever fall in love with someone like my father?

They lived double lives, it's as simple as that. Always so composed and rehearsed in front of everyone. It was just a facade though, different stories and a heap load of lies. There were signs that I missed before, that now make sense some that included the many fake photo I. D.s and passports I found hidden in my mothers vanity. Or the fact that my father would always dye his auburn hair anytime his dark roots started poking their way out. He also wore these black rimmed glasses, even though he had perfect eye vision. I found out later on that the glass was just regular glass that anyone with eyes could see clear through. Our home was almost like a museum, different locks here and there, locking you out from what's hidden behind them. I always tried to catch glimpses into the locked rooms before the doors were slammed and locked in my face. My mother always told me that they were locked for my safety and that was the end of that conversation. When she wanted you to listen and to obey her, she made you. My father was absolute putty in her hands, and it's easy to see why. She was the only person who could protect his secrets from the world and from me. But my fathers demons were never very far away.

Hannibal Lecter seemed like a character from a Stephen King novel. In other words he seemed like a figment of someone's very sick and twisted imagination. To think that a person could feel such power from taking another persons life and turning them into a gourmet meal, seemed impossible. Something like that only happened in sinister books or movies. Sadly it was possible and that same monster everyone feared was the one who brought me into this dark and diluted world. It's simple though, two humans make another human and many more. That's just how the life cycle works. My father though couldn't possibly be human, he just couldn't be. Even if he felt so much emotion, so does an animal, which probably feels more. How could someone that could give another person life, feel so little empathy and sympathy towards other people?

Maybe I'm just some naive seventeen year old who's father happens to be a class A serial killer. Or maybe I am my father's daughter? The same monster and hunger that pumps through his veins, also inhabits my every waking move and thought. I would be lying if I said that I was or ever felt normal, even before I found out the truth. I never was normal, not really. I could look at a person and just imagine their warm crimson blood running down their lifeless bodies. It never ceased to amaze me how much joy those thoughts would bring me. Keep calm and try not to lose it, I would tell myself anytime I would look in a mirror. The face that looked back at me wasn't my own, the monster stared back and laughed.

_ I am Iris _and the beast that's inside me, beating against my ribs, is unraveling. Every thought racing through my head is no longer my own. The chains that hold down this beast, are becoming rusty and loose. With just one simple tug and it would be free. Just tell me though, would that be so bad?

(Hello! First off if you are reading this, a big thank you! This story just popped into my head, and well I went with it! Please feel free to leave reviews, questions, comments or concerns! Everything helps me out in the long run!)


	2. The monster within

Thundering footsteps echoed behind me, urging me to walk faster. Wherever I was, there was no light. It felt almost as if my eyes weren't open, or that I had suddenly gone blind. I was completely engulfed in darkness. The steps behind me were getting closer with every small step I took. Putting my hands out, I felt a wall, or so it felt like one. Four more footsteps were heard, then they suddenly disappeared. Taking a deep breath, I put a hand to my chest, and felt my heart thumping against my chest like a drum. A high piercing scream echoed somewhere in the distance, causing me to quickly turn around and back up against the wall. Sinking to the cold, hard ground, I covered my ears and urged myself to wake up. This had to be a dream, this couldn't be real. Trying to wake myself from this nightmare, I pulled a fistful of my hair and started to pull on it. Nothing happened. I started to scream but nothing came out.

A sudden feeling of doom came washing over me. This was it, this was the way I was going to die. Alone and in the dark of some unknown place. I could almost see my parents faces and hear my dad murmur my name, the way he always did with his smooth voice whenever I was upset. Seeing these visions and memories made me cry even harder. Tears started to stream down the sides of face. Tasting the saltiness of the tears, I laughed. I have to be loosing it, I thought to myself. Gathering some courage I stood up and started walking straight through the darkness. A soft thump hit me on my side, and then another. With every step, I felt a thumping somewhere on my body. Reaching out with a shaky hand, I touched whatever was in front of me. I felt something wet and cold. Odd, I thought. Pulling my hand back, I put the fingers covered with the wet substance to my nose and smelled. The smell of sickly sweet iron overwhelmed my nose. _Blood. _It had to be. Yanking my hand from my nose, I wiped my fingers on my sweater and started to back away from the object. Shaking my head, I once again gathered my courage and touched what was in front of me. Reaching up, soft prickles poked my hand, almost like when you touch someone's beard. Moving my shaking fingers upward, I felt something dry, _lips. _This couldn't be? I thought to myself. Guiding my index finger up, it went into a small hole. Snatching my finger back, I tried to scream. Once again, nothing.

Backing up, a soft thump hit me in the back. Jumping away from it, I lurched to the side and felt another thump. Before I could try and scream again, a sudden burst of light filled my eyes. Shielding my eyes from the light for a few seconds, I removed my hand and finally got a look at my surroundings. All around me naked bodies hung from the ceiling, ropes knotted around their lifeless necks. Tubes ran from each of the bodies arms into a metal bucket that was housing every drop of blood each body was losing Walking to the nearest body, I took it all in. This person was a man, maybe even a young boy? He had black hair and an open wound the size of a football. The wound was right where his stomach should be. Instead, a hole took it's place.

A soft whimper escaped my mouth, what kind of place was I trapped in? Wait, I could see now, there had to be exits around. Craning my neck, I searched and searched. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Pushing my way around the bodies, careful not to feel their hard, cold deadness on me. I finally made it to the front of the open room. Getting a good look at it, I could see that it was all white with no hint of colors, except for the greyish bodies that hung in the center of the room. There were no windows and no doors, that I could see. To engrossed in finding a way out, I barely heard the footsteps that were directly behind me. The moment I heard it, I reacted to slow. The stranger had one firm hand wrapped around my mouth to silence my screams. I heard a soft deep, male chuckle, as I tried to claw the strangers hand away from my face. He wrapped his other hand around my stomach and pressed me tightly against him.

"Look" he whispered gently as the room around us disappeared and warped into a familiar room. Chuckling to himself he let me go and pushed me forward. A naked man was strapped to a table in the center of the warm room, with a rag stuffed in his mouth to silent his screams. A clothed figure stood in front of massive fireplace and sipped his drink. I was to shocked and numb to move. But that man strapped to the table looked so familiar. Taking a step forward, I got closer to the table and fully looked at the man. Gasping at the familiar face that belonged to my boyfriend, Ian MacGregor. Reaching forward, I tried to yank the rag from his mouth, but my hand went straight through it. I started screaming Ian's name at the top of my lungs, but he never heard me.

A strong hand tried to pull me away from Ian, but I kept kicking, screaming and clawing at the stranger. Suddenly two strong arms yanked me back into a hard, firm body and shushed me. Feeling the threat from that one shush, I stopped screaming. I tugged the strangers arm that held onto my shoulder, forward. Instead of feeling the impact of his body hitting mine, I felt a weird substance on my hand. Looking down, I saw burnt flesh covering my hand. Turning around, I faced the person in front of me. Covered in nothing but burnt flesh, he smiled at my horrified face and disappeared into thin air. Leaving me open mouthed, I remembered where I was and turned to see the man that once stood firmly at the fireplace, now overlooking Ian's thrashing body. Running forward, I screamed at the stranger, but he never looked up. The smell of pine engulfed my nose, and made me stop. That smell, where had it come from?

"_Iris" _cooed a soft voice that belonged to the man that was leaning over Ian. No, that voice, it couldn't be. The man looked up and smiled. _Dad? _My father smiled even bigger and pushed a scalpel into Ian's chest. Blood started pooling down his body and onto the wood floor. I started to scream, but could only hear my father's laughing. Darkness took over once more and a buzzing noise filled my ears. Reaching out, I tried to stop the noise but instead starting falling.

Bolting up, I awoke. My clothes soaked to my body and my blanket thrown on the floor. Registering where I was, I calmed down. A buzzing sound once again filled my ears. Realizing it was my phone, I reached out and grabbed it from where it sat on my nightstand. Tapping the snooze button, the phone alerted me that I had a voice mail from my father. The message started playing, his soft voice speaking,

"_Iris, dear, I'm afraid I had to leave in a sudden rush. Just some work issues, nothing for you to worry about. I'll be home tomorrow night or before then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll see you soon, love. Bye-bye" _

Remembering my dream, I threw the phone and watched it hit the wall. Even though it was just a dream, it felt different. It felt almost real, _too real. _


End file.
